


A Hundred Reasons Not To

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Category: Fushigi Yuugi
Genre: Futurefic, M/M, Post-Series, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-30
Updated: 2004-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tasuki gets tired of waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hundred Reasons Not To

**Author's Note:**

> November 2004 notes: I'm blaming my sudden FY obsession on HaruRammaLamma. Bear in mind that I haven't seen FY in a couple of years _at least_, so the characterisation is most likely off. A lot. Ah well. Mansex!
> 
> January 2009 notes: HaruRammaLamma - Harutoki, or rather, "Harukanaru Toki no Naka de Hachiyou Shou."

**A Hundred Reasons Not To**

Chichiri's got his mask off, which is unusual for him in a brooding spell, and he's standing there in the middle of camp with that distant thinking look on his face. Tasuki's short supply of patience finally runs out. He advances on Chichiri, grabs him by the shoulders, and kisses him. There are at least a hundred reasons not to do this, but damned if he gives a fuck about them.

Chichiri is still for one long moment, which is enough time for second thoughts about that hundred reasons, and then Chichiri is kissing back, and those reasons go sailing out the metaphorical window.

Tasuki does, however, spare a thought to wonder who taught Chichiri to kiss, and when he'd the time to learn, because _dear God_ the man knows exactly what he's doing, all slick tongue and coaxing lips and wandering hands. All of a sudden Tasuki's lost control of this encounter, if he ever had it to begin with. Not that he gives a damn, so Tasuki forgets about thinking and concentrates on the important thing in this situation, which is Chichiri--

Who is huffing in annoyance over Tasuki's many buttons and buckles, struggling with stiff leather, and Tasuki has to snicker just a little bit. Chichiri shoots him a sideways glare, but gets the damn things loose, and Tasuki obligingly shrugs off his coat and tosses it aside. Chichiri slips his hands up under Tasuki's shirt, calluses dragging over his skin, and nibbles at Tasuki's earlobes.

That turns Tasuki's bones to water, which maybe is what Chichiri wants, because he takes this thing horizontal. He's grinning, and there's a rock or maybe a tree root poking Tasuki in the middle of the back, but who gives a damn about that? Chichiri is stripping out of his shirt, and Tasuki has to suck in a breath in admiration. Sure, they've bathed together before, and sometimes when summer's heat is at its worst Chichiri might take his shirt off, but this is different. This is Chichiri shirtless with intent to debauch, and fuck if it isn't hotter than any summer day.

So Tasuki pulls him down on top of him, chest to chest, and what should be uncomfortable isn't, and now their bodies are lined up just right. Tasuki rocks his hips up into Chichiri's and they both groan. The thought that Chichiri has lost his cool enough to make a needy noise like that sends shivers down Tasuki's spine. He tries grinding against Chichiri again, which is good, really good, but it's even better when Chichiri shucks him out of the rest of his clothes and puts his hand on Tasuki's cock. His grip is firm, not-quite-rough, and just about perfect.

Tasuki knows he's babbling, doesn't know what it is he's saying, but doesn't care. It's been long enough since someone else has touched him like this that he comes, quick and hard, all over Chichiri's hand, and pants for breath after.

There's really only one way to return a favor like that, so while Chichiri's wiping his hand clean on the grass, Tasuki gathers himself and flips them both. He feels lazy enough after the hand job to go slow, but that's not manners. Instead he unlaces Chichiri's breeches and goes down on him--none of that teasing and nuzzling bullshit since if a guy's going to do something, he might as well go all-out on it--and busies himself with sucking Chichiri off.

It's probably been at least as long for Chichiri as it'd been for him, 'cause he comes fast too, but Tasuki's ready and waiting for that. He doesn't gag, and spits out the mouthful before arranging himself next to Chichiri, scooting that damn rock out of the way first.

They probably make a hell of a sight, all naked and sweaty like this, but who gives a damn about that? Chichiri's curling an arm around him, and sighing contentedly, and definitely _not_ brooding any more.

Tasuki decides that he should've kissed Chichiri _years_ ago.

\--end


End file.
